


Holy Communion

by HyperKid



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fjorclay Week 2020, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, asexual!Caduceus Clay, fjorclay week, hurt/comfort/blowjob, lil Fjord angst, naked Commune, prompt: nature, spell components
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23864503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperKid/pseuds/HyperKid
Summary: Caduceus walks Fjord through his first Commune with the Wildmother. Fjord’s not exactly sure why they have to be naked for this, but he’s into it.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord, Fjorduceus - Relationship, fjorclay - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 135





	Holy Communion

**Author's Note:**

> HK: I made it! :D I was a lil late to the week but I made it! And it works with the prompt!  
> Mollymauk: Bit of a happy coincidence.  
> HK: Yeah, pretty much. I’ve been threatening naked Commune for about six months now~  
> Mollymauk: And you finally did it!  
> HK: I did! Just in time for Fjorclay week! I was so sad when it snuck up on me.  
> Mollymauk: Sort of like Caduceus snuck up on Fjord?  
> HK: Hey Caduceus is not hugely sneaky.  
> Mollymauk: Yeah but you’re not hugely online.  
> HK: .... Fair. Happy Fjorclay week everyone! 
> 
> WARNINGS!! Sad lil half orc and some nudity 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one and I am very sad 
> 
> UPDATE!! @yourspicybird over on Twitter did a lovely piece of art based on this fic! It's so beautiful! Now down at the end as it should be! ^^  
> [ Original art here ](https://twitter.com/yourspicybird/status/1265618298651258880?s=20)

Fjord forced his eyes closed, drawing in a deep breath to center himself like he’d done so many times before in the past. He was nervous, sure, but that wasn’t new. Not even new recently, his life had taken a turn for the fucking weird long before Caduceus Clay came into it. 

Caduceus had always been a calming influence. Soothing, even if it was usually in a truly fucking weird way. 

The things he said were often inscrutable, bizarre in an unsettlingly unknownable way. He was like no one else that Fjord had ever met. 

Not the first of that sort that he’d met over the past few months either; he was beginning to wonder how limited his life had been, even with the infinite variety of the sea and port. 

So many years he’d grown and travelled, and most of the people he’d met had been... normal. Following the same patterns, the same internal scripts, until Fjord could read them like a book and skip to the parts he needed. He could get almost anything he wanted from most of the people he’d met with the right words, the right smile. Anything actually coming of the flirting still took him by surprise and made him awkward and uncertain; the little half orc orphan inside always surprised that anyone would actually want him. 

He had so many people who wanted him now. So many who loved him that he still woke up half expecting it to have all been a dream. 

And now he had Caduceus Clay, and through him, the Wildmother. An actual goddess who had taken the time to look at him, to reach down into the darkness of his nightmares and lift him up. The lady of the waves, goddess of the sea and nature and the wild places, she whose lighthouses had stood in every port on the Menagerie Coast. 

And today he was going to try and talk to her. 

It was fucking terrifying. 

They’d all seen Caduceus cast Commune before, countless times. No one else ever seemed to hear, or see, or feel anything, but he did. He always seemed to find his answers with that calm, peaceful smile. 

When had Fjord had asked how he did it, that smile had split into a broad, welcoming grin. 

“Would you like to try?” 

A simple question, but there was so fucking much behind it. Fjord doubted he could explain it even now. 

But here he was. Face to face with Caduceus Clay, in a small, quiet garden in Rexxentrum. Hell, knee to knee really as they sat cross legged, their bent knees almost touching. He could feel the gentle ghost of fur across his skin with every shift in the air. 

Just. Out in the open. In a busy, bustling city, but still with those quiet and natural places that the Wildmother ruled. 

A jewel of green amidst the Law Bearer’s order. A little gift for her wife, even if she wasn’t supposed to in these lands. 

The gods didn’t care much for the rules of those in the prime material plane. They weren’t exactly relevant. 

Opening his eyes, Fjord managed to give Caduceus a shaky smile. 

“I’m ready,” he said softly, his voice at least not betraying his nervousness. That at least had always been reliable; not that it mattered in the least to the perceptive eyes of Caduceus Clay. 

A large hand cupped his cheek, fingers stretching easily to the top of his head. Fjord wasn’t used to feeling small, or delicate, even if he knew he was in comparison to full blooded orcs. Somehow... it always felt nice to be reminded of Caduceus’ size. Reassuring in a way that he’d never really known before. 

Like the firbolg could just wrap him up in his arms and nothing in the world could touch him. 

He couldn’t help leaning into it and watching the smile that bloomed across the firbolg’s serene face. 

“We can wait if you need a little more time. No rush.” 

Like they weren’t sitting stark naked in the grass in the middle of a bustling city. Fjord couldn’t help the snort of laughter at the absurdity; luckily Caduceus only smiled wider. 

“Are you sure this is necessary?” Fjord asked playfully, indicating the line of their bodies with a raised brow. “You’ve never stripped off for a Commune before.” 

Caduceus’ answering smile was utterly unreadable. 

“The gods work in mysterious ways, Fjord. I was naked for my first time.” 

Both Fjord’s brows rose. 

“I thought we saw your first time?” 

That pulled the firbolg up and he paused a moment, a slight frown on his face. 

“Not the first time I cast it,” he corrected slowly, trying to work out how to phrase the difference, “the first time... well, I guess you could say I was the subject?” 

It wasn’t exactly much clearer, but Fjord did his best. 

“The first time it was cast about you?” He asked slowly, wondering as he said the words what it’d mean even if Caduceus said yes. Why would someone want to Commune with the Wildmother about someone right there? 

But Caduceus nodded happily, pleased that Fjord at least seemed to be understanding, and Fjord didn’t have the heart to correct him. 

“Yes, exactly. My father wanted to know if I would follow him in faith,” he paused, brow furrowing just a little with memory. “I was about three at the time. I think I’d used a Sacred Flame on Colton and they wanted to be sure I wasn’t a sorcerer.” 

Fjord’s jaw dropped. Then rose, hand rising with it to stifle a snicker. 

“Colton?” He managed to ask, voice deliberately innocent. 

“My brother,” Caduceus explained with a fond, distant smile. Which... kind of didn’t need any further explanation, really. 

Except why the hell none of them knew anything at all about Caduceus’ family. But that wasn’t really what caught Fjord’s attention about that particular story. 

“You were a baby,” he pointed out slowly. 

“A toddler,” the firbolg agreed happily, still entirely unbothered. 

Fjord pressed his fingers together, trying to work out the best way to frame the question. Delicacy was... a habit. 

“So... were you naked for the ritual or because you were a kid?” The warlock finally managed, feeling his way slowly through the question. He had a sneaking suspicion it had more than a little to do with kid Caduceus. 

Who apparently cast Sacred Flames at people. 

Fjord... physically couldn’t imagine it, but he was gonna fucking try. 

Caduceus paused, considering the question for what seemed to be the first time. 

“I suppose it might have been because I was a child... it’s still a good idea though,” he decided happily, all issues apparently solved. 

Well. 

It wasn’t like they weren’t ~already~ naked. 

Grinning to himself, Fjord shook his head and settled into position again. 

“You’re gonna tell me the rest of that story someday, right?” He asked without much real hope. Caduceus never seemed to mind talking about his family, but he also never ended up really elaborating. It was an odd trend. 

And as usual, the cleric nodded agreeably, once again picking up the potted flower he’d bought from a street market. It was beautiful, and apparently a rare orchid from Marquet, which even Fjord had never been to. 

Melora certainly had, but that never really seemed to matter. What mattered for the Commune was that he found something new and beautiful to him. 

Fjord reached for his own offering a little more hesitantly. The fruit had been sold by the same stall that had the flower, and was apparently extremely valuable. 

It smelled deeply fucking suspicious to Fjord, but Caduceus had promised him he wouldn’t have to eat it. It was about the size of his closed fist, red and covered in fluted skin that peeled away into pale green tips that were thick and unyielding. Hefting it carefully, Fjord looked up to Caduceus for guidance. 

“So... do I just...” 

His firbolg smiled fondly, one hand reaching out and completely enveloping Fjord’s and the fruit. Which was unfairly fucking hot when they were both naked about about to call their goddess. 

“You just hold it, and follow my lead.” 

Soft spirals of smoke curled from the incense set between them as Caduceus lit, then blew out the small cone. Fjord shifted in place, suddenly aware of every inch of skin and feeling like an idiot, just sat holding his lumpy fruit. 

Should he have lit his own incense? 

Would she care that they were using the same one? 

What if she decided he was too much of a waste of time? What if he said something stupid? 

Questions chased themselves through his mind and through every nerve, setting his skin crawling. 

And then Caduceus began the spoken component, speaking the words with a slow, gentle purpose that stroked calm across Fjord’s panicked skin. Drawing in another shaky breath, Fjord closed his eyes and tried to focus on the spell. On reaching her. 

At least he was good at talking. The words flowed freely from his lips, just a beat behind his gentle guide, and as they reached the end of the spell together he felt... 

The sounds of the city faded to silence. A soft, warm wind swirled lazily around them, the ghost of a fond caress. Just the faintest smell of salt reached Fjord’s nose; the smell of home. 

Opening his eyes, he realized Caduceus was smiling beatifically at him. 

“She’s here,” the firbolg said softly, complete certainty in his voice. 

Fjord’s fingers ~itched~ to fidget. To rub across his arms, to reach for the feeling of that breeze. 

He could feel it too, but there was no way to really describe it. He just... knew. 

There was a presence in the air, the same warm, loving presence that had reached into his dreams and lifted him tenderly from shadows. It was subtly different now that he was awake, if only because he himself was more aware. He realized suddenly that he’d been holding his breath, and blew it all out in a whoosh. 

A large hand cupped his again and he met Caduceus’ eyes. 

“What would you like to ask her?” His cleric asked gently, and abruptly Fjord forgot all spoken language. 

There’d been... fuck, there’d been a million things. A million questions that he desperately wanted the answers to. There must have been. 

Caduceus’ smile widened at the panic in his eyes. 

“I’ll go first,” he offered, and Fjord nodded desperately. Chuckling to himself, Caduceus set his potted flower gently in the small space between them, on one side of the burning incense cone. He hummed to himself, wondering just what he should ask. 

He’d not worried too much about his own spell so much as teaching Fjord. Introducing him to their goddess. 

A smile spreading across his lips, he came to a decision. 

“Are we still following your path for us?” 

It felt like a ridiculously nonspecific question to Fjord but then, he’d never done this before and Caduceus had. He had to know what he was doing. 

In pushing aside his doubts, Fjord almost missed the Wildmother’s answer. The air stilled for a moment, then the breeze blew past, warm and stronger and filled with the scent of flowers. 

Caduceus’ shoulders settled just a little, smile growing broader and more genuine. He hadn’t thought he’d been worried but... the reassurance was nice. Knowing that he was where he was meant to be, doing what she wanted of him, was a certainty he’d had all his life until his sister had left. 

It wasn’t the first time Fjord had watched him Commune, but it was the first time he properly felt the answer whispered on the wind. It seemed... ephemeral, uncertain, and if not for Caduceus’ surety he’d have wondered if he’d imagined it. 

He couldn’t help being relieved that Cad was there with him to help him interpret the Wildmother’s messages. 

Maybe Jester had a point about actually holding conversations with the Traveler. 

“That was a yes?” He asked, just to be sure. Looking a little surprised Caduceus nodded, large hands coming to rest on Fjord’s knees. 

“Yeah. Your turn.” He said it gently, and the second thrum of fear was weaker than the first. Fjord was pretty sure he still knew what words were, this time. 

Could almost even think of a whole question. 

But... 

Sucking in a deep breath he steeled himself, reminding himself that it was only Caduceus and their Wildmother. He was allowed to show just a little weakness. 

To ask the question he most wanted and most feared the answer to. 

“Am I...” he paused, frowned, thought about the question a little more. How could he put that terror into words? 

The question he’d wanted to ask all his life, and had always known the answer would be no. 

His voice dropped to little more than a whisper by the time he’d worked it out. 

“Do you regret choosing me?” As the words slipped out he had another surge of panic. Had she even chosen him? 

Uk’otoa had, but how much of that had been about him as opposed to him just... being there? In the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Did the Wildmother even care for him at all or had she just not turned him away when he’d come to her and asked? 

He barely noticed when Caduceus took his hands, gently smoothing large thumbs across shaking green. Didn’t realize he was holding his breath again, blood thumping in his ears. All he could see was red. 

Caduceus could hear how much the question meant. It had the weight of years behind it, even if Fjord hadn’t frozen stiff as a board the instant it was asked. 

His first instinct was to take the man into his arms, to hold him close and tell him he’d choose him a thousand times over. To remind him what he meant to Caduceus and to the Mighty Nein. As if he could soothe away a lifetime of being the outsider, of never being enough. 

It ached deep in his chest, just trying to imagine a life without his family. To think of someone he loved so dearly feeling even a fraction of the neglect behind that question. 

But Fjord hadn’t asked him. Hadn’t confided that depth to him. He was speaking to the Wildmother, and Caduceus only heard because he happened to be there. 

It wasn’t his business unless Fjord asked for him. 

And he trusted the Wildmother. Knew she’d feel the same way, that she wouldn’t let Fjord keep feeling that hurt. 

Gradually his gaze drifted up from Fjord’s face trapped in a rictus, and a gentle smile blossomed across his lips. 

“I think you have your answer,” he murmured gently, squeezing Fjord’s paralyzed hands. The half orc visibly started, jumping almost clear off the ground before following his gaze. 

One hand rose slowly, from the comforting warmth of Caduceus’ grip to gently touch the ring of flowers now coiled around his head. They were large, beautiful, the brightest flowers of the Menagerie Coast entwined in his hair. He’d have known their smells anywhere, even before he brought the flower crown gently into his hands. 

He turned it over slowly a few times, entirely speechless. He knew Commune was only supposed to give a yes or no, even the Traveler had insisted when Jester cast the spell herself, but this... it didn’t feel like either. 

He felt warm, loved and cherished and protected, that gentle, ethereal presence wrapped all around him. Tears welled in his eyes and for once he just let them fall. They’d barely begun and already he felt wrung out. Relief piled thickly over the tension, the panic, but the stress of so many rapid mood shifts was draining. 

And he’d only asked one question. 

Caduceus was watching him, a soft, gentle smile still on that broad face. Fjord found himself smiling back without really thinking about it. Settling his flower crown back onto his head, he nodded to the firbolg. 

“Your turn.” 

Humming thoughtfully, Caduceus let his hands fall to his orchid, turning the pot slowly as he considered. If Fjord didn’t want to talk about what just happened, he certainly wasn’t going to push. 

Luckily, they had a curiosity handy. 

“Can we eat this fruit Fjord’s found?” 

Tension blew from Fjord’s shoulders in a burst of laughter at about the same time a warm, affirming breeze wrapped itself around them. A sudden thought cut the laughter off cold and the half orc frowned suspiciously at Caduceus. 

Several months travelling with Jester had made him well used to this kind of question. 

“Will it do anything weird to us?” He asked cautiously, very carefully poking the fruit on the ground. 

This time the answering gust of wind was... affirmative, but less definite. A wispy waft that felt rather a lot like a certain tiefling’s “technicallyyyyyyyyy...” 

Fjord raised both hands and leaned away. 

“You can eat it if you want, man.” He’d eaten some pretty suspect stuff over the last year, though probably less than the entire rest of the party combined. Between Caleb and Nott’s blood fruit, Jester’s habit of ordering milk in sketchy places, and Beau and Molly’s trip on skein, he was quite proud of himself for remaining mostly substance free. 

No surprise that Caduceus, who’d been carrying around the blood fruit since and continued to fuck with it, would have no problems with Melora’s answer. 

Commune had already taught him a lot about the goddess he served. And honestly... it was a relief. 

He’d had enough of mysterious, unknowable commands from the deep. Being able to speak to a goddess, to hear her replies and feel her playfulness in the very air, to be able to see personality, was refreshing. It made him feel trusted, and in turn that he could trust her. 

Caduceus was looking at the fruit speculatively again, raising it in one large hand and turning it around. 

“I probably will,” he agreed with a thoughtful smile, “and you can always go get Jester if I need Restoration. She wouldn’t give us something dangerous.” He sounded sure, but Fjord wasn’t completely certain how much that could be trusted. 

Caddy always sounded sure. It was the way he spoke. 

Blowing out a puff of air, Fjord leaned back on his hands and glanced up at the spiralling wafts of incense. His dark mood was thoroughly broken now, and part of him wondered if that might not have been both of their intent. 

It’d be nice to think so. 

And yeah, he did have another question. 

A slight smile curling his lips, he addressed his last question to the twists of smoke. 

“Did I really have to be naked for this?” 

The answering wind was the strongest it had been yet, deeply affirmative and filled with spiralling rose petals. Fjord couldn’t help laughing as they danced around him, buffeted by the now powerful wind that stole his voice away and filled his chest with light. Caduceus was laughing too, barely visible beyond the swirl of flowers, his long hair blowing this way and that on the wind. 

By the time Melora let the wind settle, Fjord was wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. 

“Alright,” he snickered, pushing himself back up into a sitting position, his knees brushing Caduceus’ once more, “that’s my three. What’s your last one Cad?” 

Catching his own breath, Caduceus settled back into place as well, a lazy smile back on his lips. It took him a little longer to think of a question this time; Fjord was clearly feeling better, and there wasn’t any pressing knowledge that either of them really needed. 

Finally he just settled on something generic. 

“Is there anything you wish for us to do in your name?” 

Another breeze danced through, warm and confirming, and Fjord jumped as what felt like a soft, warm hand cupped the back of his neck. Caduceus seemed to feel it too, his expression flicking from briefly surprised to serene and peaceful. He was already leaning forward, apparently guided by the hand, and Fjord had to force himself to relax and let himself be moved. 

It wasn’t exactly pressure; it was much too gentle for that. No, just a gentle, insistent warmth at the back of his neck, and the feeling of fingers stroking gently across his skin as he moved. 

The air was thick with incense now, and with the undeniable warmth of the Wildmother. Still those gentle hands guided them forwards, closer and closer to each other. Their foreheads were almost touching by the time Fjord realized what she was doing. 

Snorting a laugh he closed the distance, rising on his knees and resting his brow on Caduceus’. 

“I think she wants us to kiss,” he snickered, unable to stop the grin. 

Light dawned in Caduceus’ eyes and for a moment Fjord was wondering again at how... not innocent, certainly not, but how oblivious he could be. 

Then Caduceus’ hand was curled large and hot around his neck, just over the same place the Wildmother touched, and he was kissing him with a deep, fiery intensity that seared below the skin. When he finally drew away Fjord followed, both his hands coming up to cup that softly furred face and bring him down for another deep kiss. 

For a moment he hesitated, tongue stilling its exploration as want and awareness warred below his skin. They were still just in the middle of the little park. Anyone could see them. 

And someone was clearly watching closely as the air filled with cherry blossom, a swirling cloud around them that hid them from the world. 

Smiling against Caduceus’ lips, Fjord pushed the orchid pot aside and clambered into the firbolg’s lap. Caduceus was clearly more than happy to have him there, wrapping his arms firmly around his partner, his friend, his lover. Fjord locked his legs around the firbolg’s waist and pressed them together as close as he could, losing himself in deep, tangled kisses. 

Large hands stroked across his sides, thumbs caressing the curve of his hips and smooth muscles of his thighs. It’d have been impossible not to notice his arousal stirring, hot and hard where it pressed between them... and not answered by Caduceus’ own. 

That was fine. 

The firbolg was far from unenthusiastic, kissing him hungrily as his hands roamed every inch of Fjord’s bare skin. It had been disconcerting at first but he was more than used to it by now, clutching at broad shoulders as he ground shamelessly against his cleric. 

Hell, even sat in his lap he had to strain his neck to kiss Caduceus. Large hands caressed his ass, lifting him just enough to ease the tension even as his cock caught and dragged in fur, leaving a sticky trail up Caduceus’ abs. He almost expected it when the firbolg turned sideways, spilling him gently into the grass and moving to cover Fjord’s body with his own. 

Pressing biting kisses along the half orc’s jawline, one of Caduceus’ hands curled around his cock. Fjord bucked into the touch with a whimper, eyes falling closed as Caduceus moved away from his lips. The firbolg was saying something, a low murmur directly into skin as he made his way down Fjord’s collarbone, over his abs and towards where his hand stroked surely over skin. 

As soon as he worked out where Caduceus was going Fjord pushed himself up on his elbows to watch, breathing ragged through kiss swollen lips. 

And caught a familiar word. 

He was saying the fucking spell again, kissing the words into Fjord’s skin as he sank all the way down until soft lips brushed the throbbing head of his cock. Fjord would have laughed if he’d been able, but somewhere between the kisses and the magic he was already hard pressed to even think. The Wildmother’s gentle approval surrounded them as Caduceus swallowed him whole, a strangled cry on his lips. 

Fjord tangled a hand through long pink hair, groaning as Caduceus sucked hungrily at his shaft. He’d never had anyone take his cock as easily as Caduceus, the firbolg’s sheer size meant that even Fjord’s girth was easily manageable. The bastard could just take him to the root, lips stretched wide around his thick knot as he held Fjord’s cock in his throat like he’d been doing it for decades. 

It used to make him self conscious in a totally different way than usual; for too long he’d had more trouble being too big. Too thick, the pronounced ridges on his shaft worrying a fair few potential elf or human partners. 

Being the prime appeal for others, of course. Which wasn’t much better when all they wanted was his girth. 

Only with Caduceus had he ever even had a moment of worry about being too small, and that fell away in an instant when being played with by Caduceus’ thick fingers. The firbolg wasn’t exactly an expert, but he’d learned Fjord’s body well and quickly. 

Knew exactly what he liked, knew how to lick around the underside of each ridge, knew just how hard to suck to make him swear and twitch. Before long Fjord found himself coming undone into that easy mouth, both hands knotting in long hair as he fell back, hips jerking weakly through his orgasm. 

Caduceus looked up slowly, licking his lips with a completely satisfied smile on his face. He loved his paladin, and he loved his goddess, and he was so much more than happy to be able to combine the two in acts of devotion. 

He’d have been happy to stop with the kiss, but when Fjord responded... he’d never been good at denying the ones he loved anything. He was more than happy to pull the boneless, sated half orc back into his lap, cuddling him close. 

It took a moment before either noticed that the Wildmother was still with them. 

His brows furrowing a little, Caduceus glanced around at the scattering of petals still whipped by the breeze. 

“I thought we finished...” Maybe the Wildmother wanted more than a blowjob? 

Fjord frowned a moment, then snickered. 

“You cast the spell again. I guess you get three more questions.” 

There was a perfect kind of poetic beauty in sacrificing an orgasm as a material component. Cuddling Fjord close, Caduceus couldn’t imagine why he’d use anything else ever again. 

“I guess I do.” 

**Author's Note:**

> HK: I hope to be taking part in most of the ship weeks this year, though depending on the prompts list I’ll probably be breaking out on my own. Last year had... well, the same six prompts every week, and all generic. I am troped out :P


End file.
